


Red-Shifted

by checkerbee



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Here's a fic about that, Hurt/Comfort, Other, You know that Bloodhound infinite ult bug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkerbee/pseuds/checkerbee
Summary: Their hands are trembling, fine little tremors that would be hard to miss if he wasn't so used to looking at them. If he hadn't spent long nights with those same fingers intertwined with his as they told him stories of their home.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Revenant (Apex Legends)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 79





	Red-Shifted

It starts with a shot, a kraber round from a mountaintop punching directly into the side of Hound's helmet right before a fight. 

They hadn't had the benefit of his death protection yet, hadn't had a chance to touch his totem and wrap themselves in shadows before they're downed, a growl echoing through his earpiece. Wraith is too far, setting a portal that'll lead into the fight and offer them a quick way out of it if things go south. 

Except it already has because they're down one and spread out, caught between two squads with barely any cover. 

Revenant sighs, the sound mimicking the frustration in Hound's own voice. 

"Leave your sheild up." He tells them and doesn't bother to pick them up. It would be a risk and there's no guarantee that they're not being watched through the end of a sniper scope. He joins Wraith instead, ignoring her when she asks where their teammate went. They'll be fine, he tells himself. Four championships don't come just because of luck and he has an enemy team to focus on. 

Wraith is quiet and attentive at his side, nimble feet carrying her through an open window and into one of the small buildings outside of Skull Town. He dispatches Wattson with a few wingman shots to the head and ducks to avoid the beam of a charge rifle. It's a good shot, even indoors, but unfortunately for Crypto, he reacts faster than it takes the weapon to load. Behind him is the sound of a peacekeeper underscored by the high pitch of a havoc and Wraith announces her own knockdown. 

Bangalore, judging by the voice. In the doorway, Crypto swaps his weapon instead of reloading, a carbine pressing too close to his face for comfort, but all that means is that the hacker is too close to _him_.

Fusing his fingers together into a deadly point, he stabs them directly into the final legend's chest and watches his feet dangle in the air with a tilt of his head. 

"You should have aimed for the head." The simulacrum tells him before letting him fall to the floor. 

Wraith is recharging her sheilds when he looks over and he does the same after looting a few extra cells off of Watson's body. Truth be told, the enemy team doesn't have much between the three of them, unlucky and unprepared. So, he grabs what little he actually needs and makes his way toward where his third teammate had managed to crawl behind a nearby rock for cover. 

Another kraber shot cracks through the air, the bullet imbedding itself into the tree to his right and he slides the rest of the way, careful to keep his head down. From the buildings, Wraith returns it with a round from her sentinel and he takes the distraction as an opening to pick the hunter up. He's not gentle about it, doesn't have the time to be and Hound hisses in response to the syringe he stabs into their chest. 

Still, they mutter out a thank you when he offers them a hand up, pulling them to their feet and positioning himself in between them and the third team. They kneel behind the rock and take a moment to rummage through their backpack, then a few moments and he glances over when they make a frustrated sound. 

Their hands are trembling, fine little tremors that would be hard to miss if he wasn't so used to looking at them. If he hadn't spent long nights with those same fingers intertwined with his as they told him stories of their home. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, focusing on them and only them for a moment. 

"I cannot see litir." They tell him and there is a hint of vulnerability in their tone, a waver to their voice that could become panic if left to fester. "Everything is grár."

He doesn't know what that means, but he doesn't really need to. Holding out his hand, he motions for them to hand over their backpack and pulls out a phoenix kit for them to use. 

"The shot." He says and they nod, activating the kit so that they can recover their lost health. "Wraith, keep them busy." 

"Already on it." She huffs back and then there's the sound of her shift being activated, a stream of blue trailing behind her as she repositions at the base of the mountain that the enemy team is sniping from. He watches her begin to scramble up the rocks and turns back to Hound. 

"We need to help." Bloodhound tells him and he knows, but he pulls them into one of the nearby buildings anyway and pushes them toward the mattress in the corner of the room. It's grimy and almost completely flat with use, but they sit nonetheless and pull their helmet off. 

Their hair tumbles loosely about their shoulders immediately, barely brushing the collar of their jacket and they push it back with a quick movement of their hands. He takes the helmet and examines it, fingers digging out the sniper round with a bit of effort. It's lodged deep, but hadn't managed to punch through and he finds himself grateful for that. 

The goggles come off next and he examines those as well, noting the fine crack traveling through the right lense. On the strap beside it is a flat square chip that's now warped out of shape, no doubt damaged enough that it's what's causing whatever issue the Hunter is having. 

"I can fix it." They say when he turns it over to them. "Not now, but later." 

"Then remove it." 

"It's not that simple, I'll ruin the wiring if I tár it out." 

"Is Hound good?" Wraith chimes in suddenly and he turns his earpiece off. She'll pester him about it later, but he could care less.

"I can use it for now." Hound tells him, slipping the goggles back on and holding their hand out for the helmet. He gives it back after a pause, knows that they're putting themselves at a disadvantage for the sake of the games. It's a souring thought and he clenches his fist because there's nothing he can do about it. 

"I am okay, Renee." The Hunter says once they're fully geared again, but the words are as much for him as they are for her. They stand and lay a gloved hand onto his shoulder for a brief moment before leaving the building to go help their teammate. 

…

He finds the one with the kraber and snaps their neck with a bit more satisfaction than is normal, but if either of his squadmates notice, they don't mention it. 

Hound is as confident in themselves as ever, but there's a stutter to their decisions for the rest of the match. Loot with no obvious physical differences beyond color has to be pinged and he all but forces a purple body sheild into their hands during the third ring. Wraith takes the unexpected handicap in stride, passing over ammo before Hound has a chance to request it and he knows that they're grateful for it. 

Still, there are hiccups. Especially when they're caught in a ranged fight. Enemies are hard to distinguish after a certain distance, bleeding into the grey of the rest of their vision. It leaves them on edge, he can see it in the way they stroke Artur's feathers in between fights, the bird nudging against their fingers with soft sounds. Or in the near constant way they scan their surroundings, despite he and Wraith keeping a watchful eye out for other teams. 

He can't begrudge them a healthy dose of paranoia though, knows that Hound keeping themself busy is just as much for comfort as it is for the sake of being prepared. So he perches himself up on one of the cliffs overlooking Swamps with the kraber and waits for the new zone to come in. They find him with a minute left, delegating whatever late game looting that's needed to Wraith. 

He looks over when they drop down beside him, holding out a hand toward him

"Can I?" They ask and he lets them intertwine their fingers. It's a tender gesture, one that had taken him quite some time to get used to, but that little bit of tension in his body melts away. 

"You're worrying." They continue in a soft voice, tilting their head when he grunts out a noncommittal noise. "We're almost done."

He knows that. There's only two enemy squads left, the killfeed on one of the banners letting him know that the third had somehow managed to go down to the damage of the storm. Despite the mess at the beginning of the match, it's been an almost near perfect run. Calm. 

It sets him on edge.

Hound won't have the advantage of their ult in the final fight, not with the technology in their goggles malfunctioning, and their scans will only be of use to him and Wraith. 

"Do not coddle me." Hound's voice cuts into his thoughts and he glances down at their hands. 

"Don't go down." He responds and they laugh, the sound distorted through their respirator. 

"I fall as the All-Father wills it."

It's not an answer, but he accepts it nonetheless, because he doesn't really have a choice. He's never held faith in gods, yet they do and so far, they have yet to be steered wrong. And maybe they have a right to it, because the second to last fight is laughably easy. 

It's a team of two that stumbles into Wraith in the building below. He trades Hound the Kraber for the flatline on their back and drops down to help her, but she's already dispatched both with two near perfect shots from a mastiff that she'd looted earlier. 

"Nice of you to join." 

He huffs and she gives him a wan smile, pushing strands of loose hair out of her face. "I take it you two had a talk?"

He ignores the question in favor of listening for footsteps. The last team isn't taking advantage of the fight. No shots, no ults, not a peep. They're getting to heal and loot uncontested and he hates it. Years ago, centuries ago, it would've set his teeth on edge. But Hound is still up top and watching over them, so he wills himself to relax. 

"Something like that." 

She gives him a long look, but doesn't comment on the favoritism among his teammates. It's none of her business and she's smart enough to know that without needing it acknowledged. 

"We should head up top." She says finally, because she knows that he's restless. He doesn't say thank you, but merely scales the side of the building so that he's perched on the roof. She takes up position on the small balcony below and Hound is still on the cliff with Artur perched in the branches of the tree above them. 

"It's just one." Hound's voice breaks the near silence around them and Revenant follows their gaze to see a figure creeping through swamp in the distance before they're taken out by a single clean shot from the sniper in the hunter's hands. A siren rings out shortly after, with the announcer declaring that a champion has been decided. Their squad flashes up onto the banners, but he ignores the fanfare because a part of him is still uneasy. 

And that's when Hound falls off the cliff. 

…

Concussion is what one of the games' medics tells them after looking them over. It's been an hour since the end of the match and Bloodhound had spent the majority of that time being examined by a short woman with soft brown eyes behind a pair of black-framed glasses. 

"You're lucky you activated your jump-pack before you hit." She continues. "Another hard hit and you would've been seeing stars. For now, you're gonna have a migraine and nausea, nothing serious. But your balance has recovered and I don't see a reason to keep you monitored." 

They take the obvious cue and step down off of the exam table. Her head is already buried into a file by the time they reach the door, so they leave with a quick thanks and slip out into the hall. 

Revenant is waiting for them, all seven feet of him leaning against the wall across from the door and it brings a smile to their face. 

"You didn't have to wait." They say and he hums. 

"But I did." And they're thankful for it. He may not be one for a lot of words, but he's there nonetheless. He follows them to their room, then further inside of it and takes up a space on their bed. 

They take a moment to change out of their armor and into something more comfortable, noting that Artur is already asleep in his cage. Revenant must have dropped him off while they were in the medical wing and it's something that had completely slipped their mind. 

Once their changed, they join him on the bed, taking up a spot in his arms when he holds them open without a word. Long metal fingers find their hair, working to undo the braids there and the headache that had been creeping in behind their eyes begins to abate. 

They'll need to fix their helmet in the morning, but for now, they're content. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm very bad at writing dialogue. 
> 
> Lemme know what you thought about this little fic :)


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